The Idea Bubble
by tetsuia
Summary: A bunch of one-shots that might turn into separate stories. It's a potpourri of drama, crack, horror, etc. - #4: Harry goes to Azkaban
1. Fail is the power He Knows Not

Harry Potter and the Power of Fail. 

A/N: Featuring senile!Dumbledore, pedo!Snape, Imnotgoodfriends!Hermione&Ron, Overpowered!OOC!Harry, 6thYear!Um-bitch. This oneshot is crack-crack-crack-crack. Failure is the power He Knows Not.

The concept of the Idea Bubble is inspired by Rorschach's Blot's Odd Ideas. Reference to lemon drops came from him.

* * *

Within the grey stone walls of the premiere magical school in Europe, within the dark dank dungeons filled with mildew and possible Legionnaires' disease, a single boy continued slaving over a bubbling cauldron with a whole bunch of his fellow students, draped in red and green. Quite frankly, it was a perfect scenario for a noticeable divergence point in the Harry Potter universe. In traditional fashion, that single boy was currently being glared at by the premiere potions master and douchebag in Europe. That person currently had a vein throbbing in his neck which caused the Slytherins to chatter, knowing what was next.

"Dunderheads! All of you! But especially you Potter!" Snape yelled, spittle flying into Harry's face, "How can you be in sixth year and still unable to make a Calming Draught?"

Snickers were already appearing from the Slytherins while the Gryffindors looked sympathetic yet did nothing to stop it. Harry, on the other hand, kept quiet, trying to as usual keep his cool in a rather poor situation. If he didn't say anything, he'll lose some points. If he said something, he'll lose more points. If he said something that would alleviate the growing annoyance of not being the actual object of his professor's ire (aka his father) and feeling insulted because of it, he'll lose the rest of his house's points. Honestly, he contemplated not going to Potions just to see if his house would not lose any points, but he'd probably end up being force-fed some disgusting concoction as punishment.

The abnormally long nose of the man stood eye to eye (yes nostrils were now eyes) to him as he continued on his tirade as Harry continued ignoring him. The Leglimency he felt from the professor easily pierced through his poor and feeble mental defenses, forcing him to actually pay attention to the man.

"Do you need remedial potions again?" Snape yelled with a smile, "One would think with a year of that, you might actually learn something." Harry flushed with anger but kept silent. His fists were clenched over his cauldron as Snape continued his tirade. "Did you inherit your father's thick skull since it's obvious that all efforts to teach you anything have been met with failure?"

"Maybe you just fail at teaching potions, _sir._" Harry blinked as he realized the words that left his mouth. The Gryffindors sighed and frowned with the remark. Crap.

"That'll be fifty points from Gryffindor for your cheek, and a detention for you," Snape smiled silkily before adding, "Is there anything else you want to say?"

Bugger it all.

Harry smiled as he realized he didn't give a damn anymore. "Actually, yes. I do."

"Another fif-"

"I would like to say that you are a bloody wanker. A douchebag. An asshole. A cunt." Harry calmly replied as he recalled words from some racier American shows that Dudley watched when he thought no one was around. "Quite frankly, I wonder on how you can continue teaching in the school when you're obviously stupid and unfit for teaching children. The proof's on your left arm after all." He swiftly turned around to Malfoy, "Kinda like your father and his Death Eater mates. Example being the failed theft of stealing a stupid glass orb for Voldemort from a bunch of children."

Most of the class gasped the accusations more than the fact that he had just insulted the professor. Some of the less appalled Gryffindors motioned with their hands to get Harry down from the desk he was now standing on, knowing the consequences from then on now would be enormous. Sadly, they lacked the foresight to do it earlier for Harry was far too gone. Harry was on his soapbox.

"Why Potter, my fa-" the blonde yelled.

"Your Lord couldn't kill a newborn baby. Your father, a **minion **of the dark lord, will probably fail as well. Let's list all of your Dark Lord's faults, shall we?" Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, proved his Gryffindor worth as he kneeled down on the desk, staring eye-to-eye with a sputtering Snape. Harry started lifting his finger with every sentence. "Your lord couldn't kill a newborn when he tried to. He couldn't kill a first-year when he tried to. When he had me surrounded in my fourth year with minions like Malfoy 'I look like I touch children' Senior, he couldn't kill me when he tried to. Your lord keeps a bloody diary which was the only thing he succeeded at by the way. Your lord is a hypocritical half-blood who went into a murdering rampage when he discovered his father was muggle." Harry said with a smirk on his face, five fingers lifted. It was great that Dumbledore's sessions, before it was derailed by Harry, ended up becoming useful.

He hopped from desk to desk till he was on Snape's, spinning around and addressing the class. "I mean, I'm sure the title of Dark Lord probably has some standards since Snivellus here failed when he couldn't lead the house filled with sycophants and liars." He glared at the Potions Professor who just stood there in shock who certainly received a reaction that he certainly didn't expect.

"Now, instead of being a half-blood Dork Lord like Voldemort is, he stays here in Hogwarts to terrorize children in order to get off," Harry smiled as Snape suddenly drew out his wand while Harry did the very same.

"Are you going to fail like your Dork Lord, Snivellus?" Harry's eyes glowed slightly, knowing that the words he used felt very right, "Or are you just going to take away points and give me detentions instead since you're too inept to do anything else?" He then deadpanned, "You are useless. You're nothing. And you'll continue to be nothing."

Snape's eyes were nearly bulging out similar to what would've happened to a person if the bowling ball that Dumbledore accidentally threw out the window in an effort to teach Harry the wonders of ten-pin bowling actually landed on someone. Snape's wand hung limply like his other 'wand' with his attempts of trying to think up of a curse had vanished in his rage.

"ONE THOUSAND POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR! AND EVERYONE, GET OUT!" Snape crowed.

Harry merely bowed with a smirk and immediately skedaddled, taking care to grab his bag before going out the door. The others were still shocked and didn't move until Snape suddenly started waving his wand, cursing their desks.

* * *

"You just lost ALL of our house's points! All of them!" Hermione shrieked at Harry in the Great Hall. People who were looking at the hourglasses earlier finally pieced two and two together, their epiphany evident as they started to snicker. Ron was looking apoplectic as he just stared at the point count of Gryffindor being zero. Dead zero. Harry, though, just continued looking nonchalant about the entire thing, even having the audacity, according to Hermione, to partake on their table's food after losing, quite possibly, the most points at one time in their house's history. Most of the table were thinking along similar lines to Hermione.

Harry looked at them with a chicken drumstick in his mouth, saying, "Hmm…what? I'm sorry. I missed what you were saying." He looked over at Professor McGonagall who gave a very disapproving glare and a curt nod telling him there would be a telling-off to come. He was still mulling over the fact that he didn't get blasted from one side of the school to the other in bits and pieces from Snape.

"YOU LOST ALL OF OUR POINTS!" Hermione shrieked again louder.

"Oh that. Umm…well…whoops?" Harry said nervously with a drumstick in his hand, "At least I didn't get blasted to kingdom come?"

Ron started yelling, "If you did, at least Snape's point collection could get revoked!" Hermione nodded. Harry just looked at them mildly shocked with their attitude.

His eyes glinted green as he glared at Ron. "Well, I'm sorry that I FAILED TO GET CURSED, RON. DID YOU REALLY EXPECT ME TO NOT SAY A THING WHEN HE BROUGHT UP THAT?" Ron cringed slightly along with Hermione, being reminded of what Harry lost. Harry continued on going, adding, "Maybe one of you should have stopped me! Or at least redirected Snivellus's stupid attitude towards yourselves."

"You always had his attention on you, Harry. It never bothered you before. This is probably some stupid ploy for you to get more attention," Ron replied crossing his arms, almost smug-looking.

"Oh, now that the tide of public opinion wavers, you go back to being a little shit again? Honestly, with friends like you, who needs enemies?" Harry suddenly stood up before walking to the Slytherin table, making sure to take a seat next to Malfoy, taking out his wand as soon as Crabbe and Goyle even twitched. "Why hello there, Messrs Ferret. I've decided that since Ron is a backstabbing little sycophant and I seem to attract those kinds of people, I want to add you as a friend too."

"What the hell, Potter? Get the hell out of my table." Malfoy asked panicked.

"But I want to be a Slytherin now," Harry whined, "I mean I annoyed the hell out of my house mates and my Head of House, and I have to do something that nearly gets me killed in order to get back in their good graces." Harry stretched, leaning back and placing his legs onto the table. "At least with _Professor_ Snape, I could constantly try to get other people killed and not get punished for it. Heck, I can be stupid as I want, and I'll still gain points." He nodded sagely to exemplify his point.

"I'm glad you're transcending house boundaries, Harry, and finally seeing the good in Professor Snape." Dumbledore 'twinkled' and then smiled, holding up a goblet as if in toast before drinking from it. Harry, having been used to 'it' from his sessions with the Headmaster, didn't bat an eye while the other tables just stared incredulously.

"Anyways, guys. What do you say to me joining the snakes?" Harry said with a smile that would rival Lockhart. "Heck, since I'm a Parseltongue, I'm obviously evil so I'll fit right in. I'll even speak to your snakes for a Sickle to prove that I do have an ambition."

"Potter," Blaise said from the other end of the Slytherin Table, "Though I am curious to hear what my snake would say, what ambition would you marketing your Parseltongue ability prove?"

Blinking and shaking his head at the obviously androgenous Blaise Zabini, Harry paused for a while before replying, "To cause an economic meltdown in the wizarding world by withdrawing all my assets from it. Doing this would be just a start." Thank you Hermione for the pointless lecture on wizarding economics. He turned to look over at the still somehow present Defense of the Dark Arts professor, toa- Umbridge, who appeared to be in shock at the sudden revelation.

"Mister Potter. Kindly return to your house table," Professor McGonagall said. The request was obviously not one, especially with the glare that the professor was giving him. Turning to see his Head-of-House behind him, Harry contemplated the question for the moment.

"But it's clear that our table doesn't want me, the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Receive-Abuse-From-Snivellus-Snape, so I'll stay here. Thank you for your offer though." he bowed to his Head-of-House before adding, "Besides, the house of the courageous lions should learn how to stand up to a bully before they call themselves Gryffindors." The throbbing vein on McGonagall's forehead was the only warning he received before…

"Potter! Twenty points from Gryffindor for your blatant disresp-" She shrieked.

"Sorry, we don't have any more points to take," Harry innocently replied before adding, "And any attempts to give me detentions will simply end up in failure."

Because he wouldn't go to them obviously.

"I-I-I, But-" McGonagall sputtered before turning around to the Headmaster, saying, "Albus!"

"I'm glad that you're attempting to bridge the gap between Gryffindor and Slytherin, but I must say that you should show Professor Snape a little bit more respect by using his proper title," Dumbledore added as he drank from his goblet, "Though, I have to say that you will have to meet me tonight."

Harry feigned shock and anger before he sighed, saying, "Of course, Headmaster," before he sat back down in the Slytherin table, taking another chicken drumstick. Looking over at Goyle whom he still had a wandpoint, Harry simply said, "So, what do you blokes do here for fun?"


	2. Transfiguration can be messy

Something's Wrong - Prologue

* * *

A/N: This fanfic is sort of my idea of making Hogwarts into a deathtrap with several OCs and canon characters trying to stay alive. THERE WILL BE GORE AND DEATH. Harry Potter 6th-Year AU.

* * *

The day started out normal, at least...as normal as it could be for a muggleborn student at Hogwarts. He went to Charms, endured Potions, and waited for his last class of the day to end.

"Mr. Tarvos, five points from Gryffindor. Please get your head out of the clouds and transfigure your goblet into a bird," said the Transfiguration Professor, a cupful of tea in her hand.

"Yes, Professor," he yawned before frowning. Now how did it go again? With a flourish of his wand, Jonathan pointed it at the goblet, only for it to do nothing. He certainly felt his professor's ire bear down on him like a desert sun.

"You should pay more attention in class instead of daydreaming, Mr. Tarvos," McGonagall said before taking a sip of her tea, "Miss Lundestry, can you please demonst..."

He felt his eyes move away from his housemate's perfect-as-usual display and back to the door. The Feast was calling for him, damn it! The class's end was so...so close. The door was opening!

BAM!

His hands covered his ears from...the sound of every door in the hall slamming into the wall. However, a high-pitched shriek made him turn his head back to the demonstration only to find the tail-feathers of a bird finish entering into the gagging Professor's mouth. The Professor's body fell the floor, her hands clutching her throat... which now had a large squirming bulge moving downwards. Both Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs stood still as Professor McGonagall started turning blue. He...wished they continued to stay still.

What he saw was probably the most traumatizing thing he saw in his short life.

"FINITE INCANTANTUM!" someone shrieked desperately.

The bulge in the Professor's throat stilled for a moment...before exploding into an enormous shower of pink and red. He watched as the Professor's head collided straight into the stone walls and turned into a fleshy mess. An eyeball rolled towards him, a piece of pink sinew still attached. His stomach bubbled as the eyeball stopped rolling, its brown iris staring straight at him.

He felt the acidic taste of half-digested food leave his mouth and watched as he added his own mess to the dirtied floor. The sounds around him made him realize he wasn't the only one. The Professor's neck continued to spout out blood, her heart not knowing she was dead. In the middle of the pool laid, almost tauntingly, a red-tinted goblet. The girl, Patricia Lundestry, gave a choked sob before she ran from the body. Others moved to follow her while he stayed, just stunned.

He heard the door slam once more except it was accompanied by a combination of a crack. A still quiet permeated through the room.

His eyes moved to the door only when he heard a dull thud. A large mass of blonde hair and crimson blood decorated the wooden door, stuck between the doorframe and the door. He just knew what had happened, his deduction confirmed by more shrieks of horror. This had to be a dream; this was just wrong; everything was just wrong. Or it was a Halloween joke. This wasn't real.

A voice suddenly cut through the air, drowning out the shrieks of horror that appeared to be coming from everywhere.

"Let us have a moment of silence for our dear Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall, Professor Sinistra, Professor Moody, Miss Lundestry, and Miss Patil," the voice that sounded like Headmaster Dumbledore said.

"Their cause of death appears to have been an overdose of highly potent malaclaw venom. For shame, Professor Moody, the point of carrying a hipflask is to make sure that you refill it on your own," the headmaster said depressingly.

"In light of these recent deaths, all classes are canceled for today. However, everyone must report to the Great Hall immediately," the voice sternly stated before cutting off.


	3. Reverie

Reference to Persona 4 - Reverie.

A/N: This is sort of a scene to replace the Dumbledore at King's Cross scene in the 7th book. Kinda came to me when I was listening to Traumerei/Reverie. This is related to the 'strength of bonds' scene in Persona 4.

* * *

With Neville focusing on Nagini, Voldemort will be mortal soon. The-Boy-Who-Lived had served his purpose, and the Order can now finish what he tried to do. The ground was cool, and he knew it was bright…but he didn't want to wake up. He was tired of fighting, and he didn't think he had anything more to give. He was dead after all.

* * *

"What are you doing, my boy?" a familiar voice called out. "You can't simply go to sleep yet." He didn't have to open his eyes to see the damn twinkle. It was warm here unlike the other place he was at, the smell of ash rising from the ground itself.

"I'm done, Headmaster. I fulfilled my bloody purpose to the Wizarding World. Let me rest."

He heard a chuckle from in front of him, "In our lives, we must choose between doing what is right and what is easy. You've lived your entire life choosing right. No one would fault you for crossing over to the Other side...However, if you had the chance to go back and continue to protect your friends, wouldn't you take it?"

"…What do you mean?" He suddenly felt pain everywhere.

"It's probably better if it came from them than me," Dumbledore said heavily, "Unlike them, I have failed you greatly….I have made a lot of mistakes with you, and I cannot, in good conscience, ask for forgiveness." A painful chuckle escaped the elderly man's lips, "I have sacrificed both you and the future of the Wizarding World to stop Voldemort, and I will suffer for it."

Harry felt a weight on his head, rubbing against his hair, "Don't desire to sleep so soon. Fight for your future, Harry." The weight vanished, leaving quiet and silence once more. He felt consciousness leave him once again.

* * *

"Mate," the new voice said, "I called myself your best friend, but I never really was a good friend to you. I abandoned you and was a jealous git to you most of the time. You never abandoned me though." Harry could feel the smile on the voice's face as he said, "I think I finally got what you've been trying to tell me silently whenever I got on my jealous streaks. And…for that…I will always be in debt to you."

He heard the sound of something being placed on the ground, something hard and metallic.

"Get back up, mate..." The voice trailed off, and he felt its presence go away. Something was familiar about that voice...but he was too tired to remember. There was something about that voice that brought fear and pain in his heart.

Suddenly, he heard another voice directly behind him.

"Harry!" the voice yelled desperately, "Please get back up. I don't know what I'll do if you died." His legs suddenly felt wet as the new voice continued to speak, "You're my best friend…and the brother I never had. Without you, I would've left the Wizarding World a long time ago."

The voice also sounded familiar…and the pain in his heart grew. He couldn't go back to sleep now...

"The Hat put me in Gryffindor because I only wanted to be in the House that Dumbledore came from," the female voice said with a hint of melancholy, "But I found my courage in you…" Something wet fell on his legs, a choked sob behind him. "So please...please get up once more." The voi…Hermione's voice faded away, and something silky fell on his feet.

The lethargy in his limbs made him feel like he was weighted down by many stones…and yet, he still managed to open his eyes to see a ring with the ugliest looking rock ever. It took him a moment to realize that it was the Resurrection Stone, the familiar symbol and crack down its center. Drawing the stone onto his finger, he weakly stood and turned around to where he heard Hermione, panic growing in his chest. His father's cloak was on his feet, the Cloak of Invisibility. Almost automatically, he draped it over his shoulder before he finally paid attention to where he was.

An endless white expanse with an obscuring fog. His eyes darted left and right through the mist, trying to find Ron and Hermione. He thought they would survive. His sacrifice was supposed to protect them.

"Harry Potter…so we meet face to face for the first time," a silky voice said…a voice that he only heard in a pensieve. He quickly turned around, his face meeting the end of a wand. The Elder Wand. The hand that held it belonged to an 11-year old Tom Riddle. Cutting through his panic, Riddle said, "Don't worry about your friends. They aren't dead."

"They aren't?" The relief in his voice was palpable.

"No, this place…is both real and dream," the child smiled, "a place where certain truths appear to those that inhabit it. As for myself, you probably know who and what I am."

"Voldemort's horcrux."

"Indeed," the child smiled as he continued pointing the wand at Harry's face, "I lived with you for most of your years. Experienced your family, your friendships, your conflicts. Though it was unintentional on your part, you had sheltered your very worst enemy…and possibly redeemed a part of him." A sorrow smile fell on Tom's lips, "Maybe if I was more like you, willing to give my trust to others rather than locking myself away, I might've not become who I am now."

With a flourish, Riddle's hand was now on the end of the wand, the handle pointed towards Harry. "This belongs to you, Master of Death. And…it has been a pleasure being with you." The shade smiled as the wand was taken out of his hands, slowly fading away in the mist.

"For your friends. For yourself. For me. End this."

Harry felt a sense of loss as he watched the young Tom fade into mist, an emptiness filling his chest.

"Goodbye…" the voice trailed off.

He felt a jerk on his body as he held all three hallows, sensations of familiar pain filled his limb. With resolution, Harry stared into the mist.

Everything became bright.


	4. Harry goes to Azkaban

A/N: A small omake for the 'Harry goes to Azkaban' storyline. I'm also going to note that I'm pretty fond of Persona 3, and I made a mini-reference to the fandom.

_

* * *

_

Two months, three days, two hours, and twenty-two seconds.

Two months, three days, two hours, and twenty-three seconds.

Ever had the feeling that time no longer mattered?

* * *

Sometimes, he wondered if he should've let his uncle kill him that day. Anything was better than the hell he was in, being a permanent resident of the Island of Azkaban. A choked cough left his lips, the cartilage in his throat having healed poorly from his uncle's assault. A bucket with a permanent cleaning charm, a cot with flimsy blankets, and a wonderful stone-cold floor were his only companions during the lonely night…and also the dementors, but they weren't actually good company. He wished he never learned about their powers, about how they could make him hear his parents and eventually learn how to hate them. He gritted his teeth, bunching himself into the thin blankets as the salty winds brushed through the tiny hole that connected him to the outside. It was cold…and he hadn't slept at all….everything was better than sleep...but he couldn't simply stay awake anymore…

* * *

_His Aunt Marge was inflating like a balloon, floating high towards the sky as her dog tried to take her down. Dudley and Aunt Petunia tried desperately to pull her down and were partially successful. However, Marge just kept getting larger and larger as if more and more air was entering into her body. Apparently, all the yelling she was doing did nothing to reduce the inflation or slow it down, her voice piercing through the quiet neighborhood. Harry could only look on in horror as Petunia slowly rose from the garden table with Dudley trying to hold the two down as much as he could. He didn't think he was capable of this; he had just used magic to hurt another human being. _

_So stunned, he didn't notice his uncle suddenly grip him by the shoulders, shaking him violently as he yelled, "PUT MY SISTER RIGHT!" Harry couldn't give an answer, making no noise even after the large man shoved him towards the wall of the house and ignored the gazes of the dumbfounded neighbors who simply stared at the inflatable Marge. Staring his uncle in the eye, he gave his answer. _

_"I…I…I…don't know how." _

_That was clearly not what his uncle wanted to hear if the purple veins on his forehead were any indication._

_"JUST USE YOUR FREAKISHNESS AND UNDO WHATEVER YOU DID!" Harry felt his head collide hard into the wall, stars appearing in his vision. _

_"I told you…I don't know how." _

_Marge screamed louder as Dudley, too, was slowly pulled up by Marge. Vernon only looked in horror with Harry. Harry was so focused…that he didn't notice a sense of resolution enter Vernon's eyes…or the fingers closing around his throat._

_"STOP THIS NOW!" Vernon was purple, the man's hands were crushing his throat. He couldn't breathe. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt._

_The world turned blurry, his sight frayed at the edges. The man continued to shake him and bash his head across the wall. _

_"MAKE THIS STOP!" _

_Marge continued floating higher and higher, Petunia and Dudley no longer capable of keeping her on Earth. He felt his throat become crushed, his head smacking against the wall harder and harder. Time slowed as everything went dark. _

_Harry knew he was going to die….He didn't want to die. _

_Something inside him rumbled and roared. The sensation of heat filled his entire body._

_He wasn't going to die…._

_Something wet decorated his face, stained his sight red. The pressure on his throat was gone, replaced by a painful choking ache. He looked down at the ground, to only see a pair of bloody feet. His ears finally registered the horrible loud pop that he heard moments before. He looked up at the yard. Blood drenched the immaculate yard, limbs and organs decorated the roads. Something landed in front of him with a sickening splat. Vernon's head, still stuck in an expression of anger. Its skull partially crushed, and an eyeball hanging out._

_Vernon was. _

_Screams. Many screams everywhere. He could hear Petunia. He could hear Dudley among them. _

_Bile rose in his abused throat, and he emptied what he had eaten earlier onto the ground._

_It was this scene that the Accidental Magic department found during a supposedly normal case. A jet of red marked the end of his thoughts._

_

* * *

_

With a start, Harry suddenly lunged out of his bed, grabbing the nearby bucket. Vomit came up his throat, gruel quickly finding itself into the smelly, stinking bucket they kept in the corner.

He dreamt it again….when everything changed. Lying back down on the cot, he stared into the moon high above the sky before he heard something strange. Footsteps were coming to his cell….probably another guard to taunt the Boy-Who-Lived. If it were a dementor, it would've been really obvious. Bringing the blankets over his head, he heard the jail cell open suddenly…that was not supposed to happen. Quickly lifting his head with a painful crack, he stared at the intruder of his new home. A dog. A big black dog that saw better days and one of the guards that taunted him on a regular basis. The man had a glazed look on his face as he sat down in the middle of the cell, placing his face in the bucket.

He could've sworn that the dog in front of him was laughing before licking his face. He didn't have the strength to resist. The animal walked towards the cell, whimpering and motioning its head forward.

"Do you want me to follow you?"

A bark and a nod were his answer.

His sensibilities told him that this could be a trap, probably concocted by Voldemort to try and off him once again. However, with a lifelong sentence to the island of Azkaban, he already knew that he had nothing else to lose. Weakly standing up, Harry watched as the dog slowly trotted towards the stairwell before following suit.


End file.
